The Silent Sister(47)

By the time she got back to the cottage, she was sweating and crying. She dumped all the groceries in the kitchen, flopped onto her bed, and stared out the window at the orange trees. Did Jade have anyone who loved her? The family she ran away from—did they love her? What did it matter, she told herself. They were make-believe people. The people who loved Lisa—her parents and Riley and Danny and Matty—now only loved the ghost of Lisa. Except for Daddy. Nobody else knew she was still here. Nobody else knew the hollow girl she was turning into.





20.

Riley

In spite of Verniece’s warning to wait a day to talk to Tom, I couldn’t do it. I went back to the park after dinner and was relieved to see him and Verniece sitting in the webbed chairs on the patio, two beers on the small table between them.

I parked at the end of the gravel lane and they watched me as I walked toward them.

“Would you like a beer, Riley dear?” Verniece asked when I reached the patio. I thought she looked nervous, her smile shaky.

“No, thanks.” I lowered myself into the third chair without waiting for an invitation. A mosquito promptly landed on my thigh, another on my wrist. I swatted one and missed the other, but I didn’t care.

“Look.” Tom sat forward, not waiting for my questions. He still wore the shirt and pants he’d had on at Suzanne’s office. “I was only saying what the police said. They never found her body. It was suspicious, that’s all.”

“So you don’t know anything?” I heard the plea in my voice. Please tell me you know something! “You were just guessing?”

“Exactly,” Verniece said. “He was just guessing.”

Tom lifted his beer and took a long pull on it. He glanced at his wife. “They found more than one set of footprints in the area where her car was parked, like she had help,” he said.

“Tom,” Verniece protested.

“Like someone helped her fake her suicide,” he added, in case I wasn’t following him. I was. Very well.

“How do you know about the footprints?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I read it in the paper somewhere. Your sister’s so-called suicide was written up all over the damn place.”

“My father cut out a ton of articles about what happened,” I said. “I read them all. There was nothing about two sets of footprints.”

“Well, he must have missed one,” he said. “I didn’t pull it out of thin air. What’s it matter, anyway?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You want a murderer in your life? You want to have to split your inheritance with someone like that?”

“Tom…” Verniece had red splotches on her throat.

“If my sister is alive, I want the chance to know her.” I felt the threat of tears behind my eyes.

“Oh, see now what you’ve done?” Verniece snapped at her husband. “Stop teasing her. What’s wrong with you, old man?”

Tom leaned back in the chair with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to get you all worked up.”

“He didn’t mean it, Riley, truly,” Verniece said.

“But … you honestly don’t believe she killed herself?” I couldn’t let it go. I would keep the possibility alive as long as I could.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “I think she’s probably still alive and free as a bird somewhere.”

“Stop it!” Verniece leaned over to smack him on the arm. “She’s vulnerable. Can’t you see that? I told her about her adoption and upset her to bits and now you’re filling her head with all sorts of crap!”

“I’m not adopted,” I said tiredly, then looked at Tom again. “It’s just the way you said it. You know, when you were in your car before you drove off? Like you knew for sure.”

“I was pissed off,” he said. “But that doesn’t change what I believe. About her being alive.”

We were both ignoring Verniece, who was making tsking sounds of distress.

“Verniece told me my father said he was going to give you the park,” I said, “but there’s nothing about that in his will. There’s nothing to indicate that at all, and I’m sorry if you had your hopes up. I honestly think the pipe collection was pretty generous.”

The look he gave me was evil. “You have no f*cking idea.” He got to his feet so quickly I drew back in my chair, afraid. Picking up his half-empty beer bottle by the neck, he walked away from us toward the creek. I watched him go, wishing I hadn’t mentioned the park. Wishing I hadn’t come at all.

I looked at Verniece. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was such a sore subject.”

She let out a long sigh and brushed a fly away from her damp face. “We’re hurting for money a little right now,” she said. “That’s all. You know how it is … well, you don’t know, actually.” She smiled. “But you reach a certain age. You’re on a fixed income, yet expenses keep going up. Your house is falling apart.” She laughed mirthlessly, pointing to the dented RV behind her. “It gets a little frightening.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. I felt wealthy, my share of Daddy’s money on its way to my own bank and more to come when I sold the house and the park. I’d done absolutely nothing to earn that wealth. “You know you can stay here without paying any rent until I sell the park.” Oh, God. Where would they go then? “I hope the pipe collection will give you a little bit of a cushion.”